


Manual for a date

by Ruquas



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Charity Hawktion (Marvel) 2020, Gen, IKEA, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27004222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruquas/pseuds/Ruquas
Summary: It wasn't that Phil thought Clint's furniture was a bad thing but... it was.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Phil Coulson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 52
Collections: Charity Hawktion 2020





	Manual for a date

**Author's Note:**

  * For [winter_angst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/winter_angst/gifts).



> This is a fic for the Charity Hawktion, won by Winter_Angst. I hope you enjoy it <3

If Phil would have known what would have expected him… he probably still would have said yes. Just not that eagerly. Probably. He wasn’t sure.

It started simply, with Clint saying he didn’t feel that good anymore. And then he threw up and the manager absolutely didn’t want to risk Clint spreading a stomach bug at work. And because of some insurance reason Phil didn’t bother to ask after, someone had to bring Clint home. Maybe Phil offered. 

It wasn’t a hardship. He likes spending time with Clint. He liked Clint. The other man was funny on most days. And on the days he felt bad, he didn’t pretend to be fine. Phil appreciated the honesty.

Which was the reason he hoped Clint wouldn’t ask him why he just… looked for a few moments. 

But Clint did because he had been a sniper. Because, as far as Phil knew, Clint had always needed to gauge reactions and couldn’t turn it off now. Not after over thirty years.

“Sorry for the mess… it’s been a hard week. Or month, more likely.” Clint mumbled before turning around and kicking off his shoes.

“Can I offer you something? Or do you need to go again?” Clint asked, sounding tired and sad and Phil just couldn’t go back to work. And then Clint walked to what probably once resembled a couch and looked as if he wanted to fall down on it.

“No, I… don’t have to go. What happened to your furniture?”

Because Phil had seen some things over the years. All kinds of furniture. But never furniture that looked so run down like Clint’s. And it couldn’t be that Clint couldn’t pay for nicer ones, basically because Phil knew the amount on Clint’s paycheck.

“Huh?” Clint asked while, if not falling, at least slumping down on the couch.

“I mean…” Phil started and shook his head, going over to Clint and sat next to him, because his friend was sick.

 _Only_ his friend. 

And his friend deserved some quiet.

“Spit it out.” Clint mumbled, though, eyes already half-closed, nursing a bottle of water.

“It doesn’t seem that your furniture is in the best shape and I’m wondering when you will get a new one. If you need help to build them up, I can make a bit of time.”

No, he couldn’t. Not really. But Phil would because it meant spending a bit more time with Clint.

Clint frowned at Phil.

“Why should I get new stuff? The things I have are awesome!”

Phil raised an eyebrow and looked at Clint, who almost nodded off and still looked strangely awake.

“It looks as if most of it came from Goodwill because they couldn’t sell it.” Phil said, because yes, for most of the things it was true. Not the couch maybe, but the table? Or what he could see of the kitchen? And the rest of the flat?

“‘s not true… sofa was cheap…. online…. j’s like bed…” Clint mumbled before he closed his eyes. Phil stood up and tried to arrange Clint as good as he could manage on the too small couch. From the state of it and how many blankets were on it, it was a regular occurrence. And if that was the case, Clint definitely needed a bigger one.

Phil decided to talk to Clint about it on another day and went into the kitchen to fetch Clint a glass of water in case he woke up, noting that one or two were slightly chipped.

Before Phil closed the door, he looked around again. Phil had once told him he grew up somewhat poor. Maybe those were some leftovers from his past he couldn’t let go? But then, he said he got the couch and the bed online. And overall it couldn’t be that Clint didn’t know _how_ , because the flat was nice and he tried to make everything go together.

Well, no use in guessing. Phil threw one last glance at the sleeping man on the couch and closed the door.

~*~*~

“What do you mean with ‘nice furniture’? Like, fuck you, I’m not going to spend thousands on things that are perfectly fine just because you are a snob.”

Okay, Phil could admit to himself, that this could have gone better. Way better. 

“That’s not what I said.” Phil tried but the hurt look on Clint’s face told him that it wasn’t very successful. Phil swallowed feeling his heart breaking a bit.

“Hu. Sure. And what was it what you meant?”

“I meant that your couch looks like it could have been replaced a few years ago. The sideboard you have has scratches and a bad paint job. The kitchen looks thrown together. If you like it that way, that’s fine. If not, that’s fine with me, too. I just wanted to tell you that I would be more than happy to help you picking them or building them up. Or that I can just shut up and never talking about it again.”

Clint sighed and leaned back, closing his eyes with a sigh.

“Like I said, I am not spending thousands of dollars on new things when _I have_ things. I don’t want that.”

Phil snorted.

“You’ve never been to IKEA, right?”

“No. Too big. Too… not my thing. Too many people. Not enough Exit’s.” Clint answered, looking exhausted.

“We can go together.”

Clint looked at Phil as if he had gone mad. Then he laughed, but not the light, funny laugh Clint usually did. It sounded horrible.

“That’s a nice thing to say, but believe me. I am really not good with people. You would have to do the talking, probably rushing through….”

“As long as you pick out what you want, that’s okay.”

Clint still looked at Phil as if he’d gone mad, but at least it wasn’t as mistrusting.

“Sure. If you are really sure.”

Phil nodded, doing a small happy dance on the inside. He would get to know Clint better, get to spend time with him _and_ could do something nice for him.

Clint stared at the big shop, not knowing why he had agreed to this. It had been a stupid idea. A stupid, expensive idea. A stupid, expensive idea that would drive Phil away because Clint was fucked up in the head and he just… didn’t know if he could even leave the car.

Right now, Phil was still looking for a parking space, but then he would get out of the car and would expect Clint to do so, too, to buy things he didn’t need because he already had them. Sure, the other man was right somehow, nothing really fit together in his apartment. But that was fine. He got them cheap and you could never know when you really needed the money. And he got used to it. No big deal.

Except that Phil, funny and smart and nice Phil, thought that Clint deserved nice things and was even willing to put up with Clint, taking a trip to IKEA. Even offering to help to build everything up. Clint certainly didn’t intend to change that when Phil wanted that. But it would have been nice to… maybe get to spend time differently. Not in an enclosed space where Phil would see that Clint basically only knew how to get things, not what to do with them.

“Clint? We are here” Phil said and only then Clint realized that they stopped. 

“We don’t have to go in there, you know? If you’re content, that’s more important than fitting furniture. If you just can’t, there’s always the option to order online.”

“I like you. I don’t know if I can do it or get a breakdown. I don’t want you to see that.” Clint said and was relieved when Phil just nodded.

“Okay. I saw a few break downs, though.”

And wasn’t that right… After all, most of their colleagues were at least ex-military. A breakdown wasn’t that uncommon. They both had seen enough breakdowns over the last few years. But this, this was different.

“But I think you would love to see the rooms. And the food is decent, too.”

Clint wasn’t proud of himself that food could get him out of the car, but, well… food was always nice.

~*~*~

Clint wasn’t sure what he thought IKEA was like, but it certainly wasn’t a lot of rooms shoved into a big hall. Like, no matter where they were, there were whole rooms! And he was astonished! So many things in such small spaces…

And it looked nice. Okay, some rooms were strange, having the strangest wall patterns and even stranger patterns for their bedsheets. There were even yellow shelves and that was just… not really his thing. But they had the best kids' rooms. The kind of room he would have loved as a kid. 

(Okay, he could admit that he still wanted a few things as an adult. Because he was responsible and could decide things like that now… things like wanting a chalkboard closet!)

Phil was doing this strange smile a lot that could also be a grin. Clint loved that smile. And it seemed as if Phil at least didn’t hate the decision to come with Clint. Not even when they stood in line for food and Clint couldn’t decide and just took kids pasta and those funny meatballs with fries.

Only after they sat down in a remotely quite area, Clint realized he was not only half-starved but also exhausted.

“It’s a lot.” Phil offers and Clint nods, subtly scratching his arms before taking the first bite, moaning a bit. He needed more of those meatball things!

Phil stared at him, a bit flushed and Clint looked away again. Great way to make an idiot out of himself… Clint swallowed, feeling as if he had swallowed up a sharp stone.

“Yes. But it’s nice… just not for every day. Or every month. Maybe once a year.”

Phil laughed and nodded, digging into his own food (salad… Clint didn’t know if he was disappointed or if he wanted to try it) before pointing at Clint’s list where he had noted down all the things he would like to have.

“What are you getting?”

Clint shrugged, poking at his meatball things. He didn’t know what he would get in the end. The car wasn’t big enough for everything and he would have to choose and he didn’t have any idea what he wanted. He kind of wanted a new couch but…

“Did you know that you can rent a car here?” Phil suddenly said and Clint wanted to hug him and kiss him. He didn’t, but he blushed at the thought. 

“Sounds good. Then I would probably get a couch and a nightstand. No new bed, I like my bed, but I thought about... “

~*~*~

Watching Clint running through IKEA was a bit like watching a kid. Always waiting for an accident to happen and still so much infectious joy. Phil had expected much, but not that Clint actually seemed to like it.

Sure the other man had become quieter and seemingly tired towards the end, but that was the case for most people, probably.

In the end, they got a couch, a new closet with a chalkboard door (Clint claimed it was to write a to-do on it. Phil didn’t believe one single word), a few sideboards and shelves, and a nightstand.

Clint refused to get a new bed or a new coffee table or anything else for the kitchen except a new table, and for some reason, a wok pan.

It was only when they finally had carried everything into Clint’s flat that it was late. Way too late to even think about starting. Or to even think.

At least that was Phil’s excuse for not declining when Clint offered they could share the bed.

He had survived a lot of things during his days with the Rangers. But today, he was certain, was the day Phil would die. 

And while he laid there, listening to Clint’s breathing and feeling his warmth and just smelling him, Phil decided that it was probably a very nice way to go.

“This stupid fucking, shitty, assholery thing just doesn’t want to fit!”

Phil barely showed a reaction and that made Clint just a bit angrier. Like, why the hell wasn’t Phil screaming? Why did this shitty thing, whatever it was that they together, just… fitted? Why was Clint’s night table, a fucking stupid night table, that difficult, next to impossible to build it while Phil builds up a shelve just by himself?

For god’s sake, it’s just a small, white, stupid table! Not even that, just a bit metal that carried a white, small board and a small drawer, what the fuck was wrong with that thing?

“I am sure it can fit if you stop yelling at it. Do you need any help? We can also take a break or build up something else. There are still three si…”

“No. This stupid shit thing won’t win the fight!”

It didn’t win the fight, but Clint didn’t either. In the end, he had to ask Phil because there was no way he could get the screw where it should be without breaking his wrist. 

At least the other things were easier to build up. And before Clint knew it they had already ordered lunch and were sitting at his new coffee table and were eating pizza. Clint laughed when Phil bit into a piece. He just felt… good. Everything was good.

Phil though raised an eyebrow, trying to look all serious and stern, which made Clint laugh even more. The other man just smirked and continued to eat his pizza and Clint wished, for a short second, that it could stay like that. That they could always sit on his floor, eat pizza, and could just share the silence. Maybe a kiss or two. Or even holding hands.

Clint snorted, almost laughing at himself. Here he was, a grown man, fantasizing about holding hands with his… well, crush.

“What’s so funny, Barton?”

“You eating pizza like a normal human being. Or looking like one. It suits you. I mean, the suits are suiting you, too. They are suits, after all. But this, this looks softer.” Clint rambled, wanting to hit himself a bit. But it was true. Jeans and a normal shirt did wonders to change the appearance of Phil.

Phil’s mouth twitched for a short second before he put his pizza carton down and stood up, the small smirk turning into a grin that could intimidate a shark.

“Those aren’t the only things that suit me.” Phil said and Clint swallowed, not knowing if he could still breathe. His mind wandered to scenarios where Phil didn’t wear a shirt…

Before he knew what happened, Phil was already walking back to the last of the big cartons, shark grin gone, looking like he couldn’t hurt a fly.

“I’m gonna start this one while you’re finishing up.”

Clint was proud of himself to manage not to whimper… at least until Phil had left the room with the carton.

~*~*~

It took them several more hours and Clint several more cussing out the shelves before they were finally finished.

Phil was tired and weirdly proud, just like he was every time he helped someone build up furniture. He looked at Clint and smiled. The other man didn’t look much better, almost dead on his feet, sweaty, and just overall very happy and content with his new stuff. He had already drawn a bird on the chalkboard closet (pretending it was just to try out how good it works).

And then Clint turned to look at Phil, eyes all warm and a soft smile on his face and he knew that he wanted to see that more often. Needed to see that more often. Not just at work. More like at least a few mornings every week. Maybe on weekends, too. Running his hands through Clint’s hair, just… having Clint with him.

“Thank you so much, Phil. I… just thank you. I love it.” Clint said, blushing a bit and Phil really wanted to kiss those lips.

“Uhm, Phil?”

“Hm?”

Clint looked nervous. Almost as nervous as he had before he walked into IKEA.

“Uhm, if you don’t mind, I mean, you don’t have to say yes, obviously, because that’s just… I meant, if you wanna, maybe we could go somewhere? Like, drinking coffee or eating or a movie? Like, a date? Maybe? But like I said, absolutely no pr... “

Phil decided to put an end to Clint’s blabbering and bend forward, pressing his lips against Clint’s. Grinning when Clint let out a gawking sound before carefully kissing back.

Yes, Phil definitely wanted to have that more often.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have a request, [just visit my Tumblr and drop me a message](https://ruquas.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Also, at the moment it could take me a bit to respond to comments due to heavy anxiety. I can assure you, I read the comment and will get back to you as soon as I can <3


End file.
